Another fax "too good to be true" offer came at the office today. Proclaiming some better-than-free trip to someplace that's way too hot to go in the summer. Usually they tout some penny stock that is destined to go up by 20%, from its price of eight cents. But this one was telling me I needed to go on vacation ... NOW!
"Hurry ... Space is Limited" it said.
That's truth in advertising. Space is always limited, no matter where you are - even in space. Besides, I'm not signing up for a trip to Jamaica in August, no matter how cheap it is. It's probably Jamaica, Long Island anyway. Either way, it's too stinking hot to go anyplace further south than Washington, D.C.
Which reminds me...
A "Presidential Bust" of U.S. Sen. Hillary Clinton was unveiled on Wednesday at New York's Museum of Sex, where sculptor Daniel Edwards hopes it will spark discussion about sex, politics and celebrity. Edwards, the artist who also created a life-size nude of Britney Spears giving birth on a bear-skin rug, said he wanted to capture Clinton's age and femininity in the sculpture.
Well, Dan -- you failed, unless you were trying to get people to stop having sex because the lasting impression of women that will be formed in their minds is of a chicken-necked woman with no arms or nipples. Good job.
For more on the idea, skip to SpaceDog and see what a real artist thinks.
I'm wondering why any medical school graduate would want to go into proctology. I figure, at the end of the med school road there's a little meeting between the student and his advisor. Since not every student carries a high grade-point average, there must be some way to separate the good students from the not-so-good. The 4.0's go into surgery or some kind of high-end field while the lower-end ones have to take whatever openings exist. That's where proctology comes in:
ADVISOR: So, Mister ... I mean, Doctor ... we see from your transcript that you haven't exactly lived up to your potential here at Med School U.
STUDENT: Well, I did a little too much drinking. But, I was doing this paper...
ADVISOR: That's all well and good, but you know there are priorities, and the public isn't willing to accept your doctorial thesis on the effects of grain alcohol on the central nervous system as a viable reason why you carried a 2.5 GPA.
STUDENT: I know, and if I weren't in an alcohol-induced haze right now, I could probably conjure up a feasable argument, but as it is, I ... well, you know.
ADVISOR: I do. That's why you leave me with no choice.
ADVISOR: That's right. We both know it's the best decision. People won't trust anything but their ass to you at this point.
STUDENT: I understand, and I hope to someday restore the medical community's faith in me and will try to work my way up to ear, nose and throat.
ADVISOR: Make the best of it, and remember, asses need doctors too. And feet ... don't forget about the feet.